Today is when the reality hit me hard...the reality that I am leaving Rabat, leaving the incredible friends I was fortunate enough to make over the past few years, leaving the apartment in which I did not stay that long but which I literally made with my own hands and sweat, and in which I already had so many unforgettable and life changing memories, leaving my incredibly lively and welcoming neighborhood, leaving the numerous streets I so loved to stroll through with my bike, leaving the numerous storks I was so passionate about, leaving the spectacuraly and culturally entertaining sea shore I adored running along at sunset or sunrise...leaving the life I had built after two years and which I finally started feeling comfortable in. But perhaps this is my curse, choosing newness and adventure over comfort and routine. Perhaps one day I will choose the other way around realizing that adventure is conceivable within comfort and settling down. Who knows…? But not today I suppose.
For the past weeks I was consciously trying to be in the present moment, avoiding by all means the anticipated sorrow and nostalgia to come with such a transition. And so I dove into work and into enjoying life as usual.
But today, closing my apartment door, saying good bye to all the heart building and heart breaking souvenirs, I slid the keys under the door, and watch my heart shed tears from inside. I am very very very bad with goodbyes. So the only person in the neighborhood I actually told I was leaving was the dry-cleaning guy. The most friendly person of the street. He was happy for me. Then I gave a winter coat and a bag of food with a whole bottle of Grand Marnier to the parking guard downstairs. Ha, not sure he knew what kind of liquor that was, but pretty sure it won't last long. He was already drunk when I gave it to him.
Rabat is a magical city and living where I lived was a magical neighborhood...filled with humanity and selfless kindness. Morocco has it's goods and bads, lots of both, but one crucial good one sees very quickly when stepping foot on this land is welcoming kindness.
Each of the transition I have made in the past, and I have made several already, has been heart wrentching, but it all worked out for the better in the end, and only made me stronger and grow forward. So I shall embrace this new adventure fully, not conceiling my sorrow for leaving, but not letting it take over the excitement of this new beginning.
Day #1: November 4th
I took a night flight from Casablanca to Cairo, landing at 4:50 in the morning. Though I thought I would arrive dead tired, somehow, the adventure (I have done absolutely zero planning for this trip, and have no expectation) kept me awake. Cairo airport is very clean and quite that early in the morning, so it made for a smooth arrival. Since it was so early, I preferred to wait an extra hour on a bench in order to not wake up my hosting friend Patrick so early on a Saturday (in Egypt Saturdays are like Sundays in Europe) morning. It turned out to be a fantastic decision as when I finally hopped into cab to the city, the sun was half way through sun rise, casting all sorts of fluo orange hues over the city.
I have seen many (polluted) cities in the world...but this is the first time I am actually able to realise and see what color is CO2. As if the entire city had been painted by a cloud of ashes. Sounds nasty and ugly on paper (screen), but with this light and the road being almost empty, my first impression of Cairo was absolutely amazing. Love at first sight. The roofs, the architecture, the balconies, the density...magical! It very much reminds me of a mix between Havana, Istanbul and Bangkok. The whole drive was like driving back through time, back from the past. And the cherry on the cake was when the pyramids popped up in between the buildings as if it were a neighbourhood among many others. A pure welcoming spectacle, keeping me in awe the whole time and soothing my mixed feeling caused by my departure from Rabat. And well, I didnt expect Cairo highway to beat (by far) any US city billboard density.
The neighborhood of Zamalek is surreal. Extremely modern Occidental boutiqes, snacks and restaurants, reminding me very much of Toronto, yet, all glazed with CO2, and immersed in buildings from another era. I just cant wait to venture around in this city. It feels as if I could spend a whole month just walking through the city...but that is not why I came here...at least not on this trip. First, venturing south, trekking, Nile cruising, and scuba diving. But I will make sure to save a bit of time for this open sky city wide live museum. Though I won't start before I check out the Giza pyramids and the Cairo museum. The frustrating thing is that the sun sets at 5pm these days, and thus all tourist sites close at 4pm. So that means two days to do these sites if I want to take my time and soak it in well. :)
While looking for the right address, the cab driver stops at a snack/hole in the wall breakfast place...it is about 6:30 in the morning, and already half a dozen men are drinking coffee and smoking shisha! Really?! That early!?
After a morning nap, Patrick took me to Sequoya restaurant, a high end brunch place on the bank of the Nile. As he stepped inside the place, he was greeted like a prince. The best date juice ever. One of the waiter asked me where I was from by asking if I were Egyptian, he asked me whether I was from Marrakech or from Mexico. Hahahahaha! So absurd and funny. But instinctively, I cought myself saying I was from Morocco. :0). And so I decided that for the rest of my trip, that's what I would say. Perhaps a better option if I am ever to stumble upon any dangerous situation.
Today was dedicated to catching up with Patrick, and walking through the neighbourhood a bit before heading to have a pic nic with his Egyptian a god family on his farm/guest house project in front of the Dahshour pyramids...what a place...square plantations as far as the eye can see through what is the most palm tree forest I have ever seen. Breath taking walk with the kids through the palms and little villages as the sun is setting and the farmers are getting back home with the family and animals.
The way back, at night, is not only when fatigue hit me hard but also when Cairo’s reputation for insane traffic materialized before my eyes. As insane and dense as Dhaka’s traffic, yet strangely fascinating.
What a day!
Day #2: November 5th
Patrick took off to Alexandria at 6 this morning, so I am on my own until pretty much Thanksgiving, November 23rd, where I will do my best to make it back to Cairo for another round of catching with Patrick, see the kids, and dig much much deeper into Cairo for my last two day.
Quick shower, some bananas and pomegranate, and am out the door by 8:15. On my way to the Giza pyramids. They have always been such a mysterious place in my mind. Something you see in books and on TV, but not real. Mythological fiction of some sort.
So I hop into a cab and tell the driver “Giza”. And off we go. After a while, still no pyramids, am getting concerned. Funny (or not) enough, the day I left Morocco, I read an article saying that Casablanca ranked #2 most dangerous city in North Africa, right behind...Cairo. It made me laugh (just hoping my mom did not read the same article) as any city in the world could get similar ranking depending on what factors we base it. And well, we get to some micro bus terminal and the guy tells me we have arrived. Hmm...still no pyramids. Just how many Giza can there be in the one city in the world known mostly for it's Giza pyramids?! I write it down for him on a piece of paper. I even draw a perspective 3D view of a pyramid. I mime it with my hands. Nada. We hell a cop on the side for assistance. Same scenario. Nada. Finally an English speaker passer by helps out. Problem solved. Well...it so happens that Giza is the name of the neighbourhoods and not the pyramids. And it so happens that in Arabic, the word pyramid does not ring any bells at all. Pyramid in Arabic is Haram.
This incident was such a tremendous sociology eye openner. The driver clearly knew I was a foreigner. My little Darija is pretty useless here, and haven't had time to brush up on my Fus’ha, so I tend to revert to English quite often. And so despite him knowing I am a foreigner, and me asking to go to Giza, he not once figured out I wanted to go see the pyramids, but rather assumed I wanted to go where any Egyptian ask for Giza would go. My drawing of the pyramid is highly accurate, but even that he couldn't figure out. Clearly what seems obvious for one is not necessarily for another. And well, in a city like Cairo, a cab driver prefers to not make any wrong destination assumption. Smart of them. (Gosh it feels so good to be in a city where taxis actually stop, greet you, ask you where you want to go, and take you there using their meter or quoting you the right price. What a change with Morocco!)
So we finally make it to the entrance of the site. Got tricked by a guy pretending to not be a guide but an official just helping out with information. Turned out he wanted to sell me a horse cart ride. He didn't seem to be happy not believe me when I told him I loved to walk, especially in the desert. Got mad a d told me to go. So I went. Hehe! Getting to the site was a bit overwhelming given the immensity of it all, and so I really didn't want to get bothered by false guides nor have someone on my back all the time. I just wanted the pyramid, the desert, peace and quiet, and soak it in. Lucky me, the site was so huge that it was easy to walk away from tourist. A young boy, Ali, and his horse Baraka managed to tricked my compassion for his kindness and sincerely, and so I did do a short horse cart ride. Very nice and polite guy. Short ride and off I went on my own again. I just wanted to walk away from the pyramid and get an overall view from afar, sit down on the sand and do a sort of fly-to-the-past-with-open-eyes meditation. Such site is clearly fascinating, but what fascinates and catalyses my dreams and interest is the envision the living condition of those days, try and picture through the overall site, what it was like.
I am still too close, I want to walk further atop a hill. On my way I get met up by this police/official guard in uniform sitting on top of this beautiful and muscular white dromadary (it always surprises me how most people ignore the fact that there are no camels in Africa, but rather dromadary. One hump for dromadary and two humps for camels). He seemed to try and tell me that it was not allowed to walk that far away from the site. (With the regional political/religious unrest due to ISIS presence in the country, I try not to question too much such safety measure). The guy, Ramadan, is super nice. I tell him that I don't want the tourist panorama point where hundreds of tourists are gathered all day long. I want peace and quiet on this other hill. He gets off his dromadary (Antonio!) to chat, and most amazingly and surprisingly, to show me panorama shots, and wait for it...he takes my camera, steps back and directs me on pauses to take. Hillarious moment! I took some shot of him shooting me...funniest thing is that his dromadary was making the same pause he was while taking the shots. We have a good laugh as he can't seem to be satisfied with a jumping ahot he is trying to capture. And then we sit for a while, somehow communicating with smiles, noises, mimes, and sounds. The usual language of human kindness.
I felt glued to this site. It's grandeur is so impressive. In my mind it makes no doubt that it were humans who built those pyramids. No way!
Walking down to see the Sphynx and the main paved cause ways that were used to assemble all the granite stoned together are breath taking.
Can you imagine having these pyramids in your backyard? I mean, in a relatively modern city in the year 2017, having Giza pyramids coming out of the subway station from work, or by the dog park, or as you are drying your laundry on your balcony...I suppose a lower class Egyptian would say the same about Manhattan’s skyscrapers.
I spent the rest of the afternoon walking around Tahrhir Square and Talat Habr. The square in itself is not interesting other than being the Central point of the last revolution. But it’s neighbourhood, filled with life, culture, boutiques, street foods, cafes, etc...I love it. Not a sign in English. All in Arabic, and barely any foreigners here. Perfect.
I buy my ticket to this Egyptian short film screening for later on, and keep walking around. As the sun sets, the ambiance changes as well, more people come out, men and women, As if we were in a mix of Europe and middle East. Find the most authentic traditional Kushari place. Eat. And back to cinema for the screening. Well worth it's Oscar’s nominations. Strong and contemporary. Bravo!
For the way back to Zamalek I wanted to walk back through the night and see the night scene, both along the Nile and the inside streets. Hmm...I walk and walk and walk, getting lost and finding my ways again. Amazed to see that even the darkest of alleys are safe. Women walk alone of with other female friends, veiled or not, on their own, and without being troubled not even once, by men. Not a single whistle or tsss tsss. In that sense, it feels like the most advanced of European cities compared to Morocco.
The banks of the Nile have all sorts of boats with so many colourful lights they look like horizontal floating Christmas trees.
The walk back home was very long as apparently I managed to take a wrong turn at some point and ended up on the other side of the island without even noticing it. I suppose I was way to focused on observing everything that was happening.
I spent a bit of time today thinking about the fact that such a very strongly monotheistic country is pulling all of it's tourism business and pride from what was perhaps the most polythesitic era of human kind. It amazes me, and also makes me realize that such polytheism would please me quite much. Like many other ethnicities in the word went through back then, praising the goods of rain, water, food, nature, animals, etc…in other words, respecting just about any natural and living thing on the planet. The opposite of what we have been doing since the start of monothesit, isn't it?
Why is polytheism wrong? Why did religious movements and more importantly their followers switch from poly to mono? In a strange way that's what agriculture has done as well. Monoculture today is ruining our planet and our environment...when nature preaches polyculture.
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